


Day by Day

by uniquepov



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-23
Updated: 2011-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquepov/pseuds/uniquepov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five moments, from five days in the life of Hermione Granger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day by Day

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. However, I promise to return everyone, good as new, when I'm done playing with them. I own nothing that you recognize, and I do not profit from any of it.  
>  Written for the 2011 10th and final [](http://dmhgficexchange.livejournal.com/profile)[**dmhgficexchange**](http://dmhgficexchange.livejournal.com/) here on LJ. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the mods, for running this amazing fest!
> 
>  **Author/Artist Note(s):** Thank you to my betas, including one who stepped in at the last minute, who kept this story on track despite my best efforts and tangential ramblings. *snugs* You lot are the best!  
>  **Prompt/Recipient:** This was written for (someone who never even commented), who asked for (among other things) first times, UST (eventually resolved), awkwardness, a little bit of angst, humour/wit/sarcasm, PASSION, angry spur of the moment throw her against the wall cliché, long, passionate kisses that last forever, smut, banter, amusing misunderstandings, happy or hopeful endings, getting-together fic with a somewhat dominant!Draco.

On Monday, Hermione decided it was worth losing her job, just to be able to throw her notes in that insufferable git’s face.

“Honestly, I think that man comes around _just_ to annoy me,” she muttered to her research assistant, Orla Quirke.

Orla, a sharp but quiet former Ravenclaw, started. “I don’t know,” she mused. “It’s kind of nice having a department head who understands what you’re working on.” She shot a pointed look at Hermione, whom she knew had refused the job at least once.

Hermione had the grace to blush. “I suppose; but does he have to have his hands in everything?” she countered. “Wouldn’t it be enough to have the weekly department meeting and leave us to it the rest of the time?”

“He only comes into the lab once or twice a week,” Orla said complacently. “It’s no more than Higgs used to come by, and that never bothered you this much.”

Hermione waved away Terence Higgs with a flick of her wrist. “The shallow prat wouldn’t know research if he fell over it. He’s a career politician and we were a mere rung on his ladder.” She shook her head ruefully. “Malfoy, on the other hand, _does_ know what he’s doing. And thinks he does it better than me.” She sniffed. “Which is, of course, ludicrous.”

“Of course,” Orla agreed with a sage nod. They continued on for several moments in silence, checking their experiments and recording findings, the scratching of quills and the bubbling of cauldrons the only sound in the small space. “Still, it’s rather romantic…”

Hermione goggled at the younger woman. “Romantic?”

“Yes,” Orla nodded emphatically. “The way he looks at you…” She trailed off at Hermione’s sharp look. “What?”

“Are you feeling quite well?” Hermione snapped. “Because it would appear that you’re beginning to hallucinate.”

Orla blushed, ducking her head and returning to her work. Hermione, after another moment of silence, gave a disbelieving snort and turned back to her own projects, shaking her head.

 

*** *** ***

 

On Tuesday, Hermione seriously contemplated the possibility that a life sentence in Azkaban might be a reasonable price to pay for a Malfoy-free existence.

 

“I am going to MURDER that man!” Hermione exclaimed as she dropped into the seat across from Luna at the Leaky Cauldron. “Honestly, I will!”

Luna smiled. “No, you won’t,” she replied in her unmistakable singsong voice. “Your emotions certainly do seem to be running high when it comes to Draco, though.”

Hermione, who had been about to take a sip of the pint of butterbeer Luna’d had waiting for her, stared at the blonde over the rim of the glass. “Since when are you on a first-name basis with Draco Malfoy?” she asked incredulously.

“Since he came to ask my forgiveness for my imprisonment in his father’s cellars,” Luna told the gobsmacked brunette. “He was really very upset about the whole thing.”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth silently several times before giving up and taking a sip of her butterbeer instead. The image of Draco Malfoy asking Luna’s forgiveness after the war was incongruous with her snarky, demanding, exacting co-worker. The man was positively the bane of her existence; how could he possibly have enough humanity to not only feel remorse over what had happened to Luna, but to actually apologise to her? The very idea was preposterous.

“Luna,” she began now. “My emotions do not ‘run high,’ as you put it, when it comes to Malfoy. He’s impossible to work with! No one could do things the way he expects them to be done, and it’s impractical of him to try to micro-manage every phase of the project the way he is.”

“That may be true,” Luna rejoined quietly. “But I don’t think you’re being completely honest with yourself, Hermione. Have you checked your office for Nargles recently? Or Whirlypucks? They can cause-”

“Luna!” Hermione interrupted impatiently. “Please. I know you’re trying to help, but… I just don’t want to give that man another thought tonight. All right?”

“All right, Hermione,” Luna said with a bright smile. “There is just one other thing, though…”

“What?” Hermione asked cautiously.

“I just wanted to mention some colour choices to you,” Luna said dreamily. “After all, the three of us have such different complexions, you know.”

Hermione stared at her friend blankly. “The three of whom? Different complexions?”

“You and I and Ginny, of course,” Luna replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “For your wedding colours. Ginny and I would both look nice in blue, don’t you think?”

Hermione nodded in confusion.

“That will match Draco’s colouring nicely as well,” Luna continued comfortably. “The groom and his men usually wear something to complement the bridesmaids, don’t they?”

Hermione’s expression might have been comical, if anyone else had been around to appreciate it. “Luna, are you under the illusion that I will be marrying _Draco Malfoy_?”

“Certainly.” Luna’s beatific smile lit her face. “Aren’t you?”

Hermione laid her head on the table, cradled by her arm, with a quiet groan.

 

*** *** ***

 

On Wednesday, Hermione decided that if she was going to Azkaban anyway, for murdering Malfoy, she might have to go after Luna, too, in retaliation for the blonde putting these… _ideas_ about Malfoy in her head. Orla, too, for that matter.

Hermione turned to glare at her research assistant, who was currently giggling up at Malfoy, who was standing over her workstation with an easy grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to her own research. She shouldn’t be bothered, really. Every moment Malfoy spent with someone else was time that she was free of him. And that was what she wanted.

She crossed to her desk, picking up her tea as she sat down to compile her findings from the day before. Glancing over at the chatting pair, she choked on her tea as she watched Orla – sane, sensible Orla – bat her eyelashes as she listened to Malfoy asking for clarification about a research point.

Her coughing fit caught the attention of the couple, both looking over to her desk with startled expressions, as though they had forgotten she was in the room. She could feel laughter bubbling inside her, which only made her cough harder. They were surprised to see her. In her own lab. Classic.

“Hermione, are you all right?” Orla asked, coming over to her desk in concern.

Malfoy stayed where he was, leaning up against the counter with crossed arms, chin tilted. “All right, there, Granger?” he asked nonchalantly.

Hermione nodded through her coughing. “Fine,” she managed to choke out in a strained rasp. “Tea… down the wrong pipe.”

Orla hovered until the coughing fit subsided, refreshing Hermione’s tea with a wave of her wand, as well as conjuring a glass of cool water for her. Malfoy’s gaze remained on Hermione appraisingly.

“Thank you,” Hermione said gratefully, when she was able to speak. Orla nodded and returned to her own workspace, resuming her easy conversation with Malfoy. Hermione sat sipping her tea carefully, wondering if she was imagining the surreptitious glances Malfoy was casting in her direction.

 

*** *** ***

 

On Thursday, Hermione had reached the end of her rope as both her temper and her tongue threatened to get the better of her.

The weekly department meeting was _not_ going well. What had started out as a cordial debate about a very minor point in the research had deteriorated into a full-on shouting match. The research assistants had quickly slipped away, leaving Draco and Hermione to face off alone.

“Malfoy, stop telling me what to do at every turn!”

“Start doing it correctly and I won’t have to be behind you every step!”

“What? How dare you imply that my work is anything but exemplar-”

“Your work is uninspired.”

“ _Uninspired?_ ”

“Do you have problems with your hearing, now, too, Granger?”

“You loathsome little-” she raised her hand to slap him. He caught her wrist easily, before the blow could connect.

“Steady on, Granger. I could give you the sack for assaulting your supervisor.”

“Sod off! I quit!” Hermione snarled, bringing up her other hand to claw at his fingers, wrapped vise-like around her wrist.

Draco grabbed her other hand as well, now holding both her wrists up and away from her. He shoved her back against the wall roughly, pinning her wrists above her head with both hands. “You quit?”

“Yes,” she snapped, struggling to pull her wrists out of his grip. “I’m not working for you another second!”

Despite her anger, she caught the flash of joy that played across his features. “About bloody time! Now I can finally do this,” he growled, pressing her against the wall and kissing her deeply.

Hermione struggled in surprise, trying to push him away, even as her mind registered the passion and – could it be? – tenderness behind the kiss.

Draco’s lips were soft and gentle on her own. His tongue made soft, teasing licks over hers, seeking entrance. Her eyelids fluttered closed and her body relaxed beneath him, responding to him instinctively. Her lips opened, her tongue swiping across his mouth before gently sucking on his bottom lip. For a long moment, they stayed like that, bodies molding together as they lost themselves in the kiss. Draco’s hands moved down to cup her face gently, while Hermione’s hands moved to tangle in his hair.

When they finally broke apart, breathless and wide-eyed, the look of shocked surprise on Draco’s face must have mirrored her own.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” Hermione said finally.

“Indeed,” Draco replied, lips quirking upward slightly. “You’re much easier than I imagined, Granger. I thought I’d at least have to take you out to dinner…”

Hermione laughed. “You will have to,” she promised lightly. “Tonight, Malfoy.”

Draco’s broad grin was answer enough. “Draco,” he corrected gently.

“Tonight, then… Draco.”

 

*** *** ***

 

On Friday, Hermione woke late to light filtering in through the curtains and a draft under the duvet as Draco crept from the bed.

Assuming he was headed for the loo, she was surprised to hear the Floo activate in the front room. Draco’s low murmur floated down the hall, too indistinct for her actually discern what was being said. A few moments later, he came back down the hall, closing the bedroom door quietly behind him and slipping beneath the duvet to snuggle against her back.

“Morning,” she said softly.

“Morning,” he returned. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm,” she agreed as she rolled to face him. “You?”

“Better than I have in a long while,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her gently. “Must be the release of all that… tension… between us.”

Hermione smirked up at him. “Is that right?” she teased. “You call yourself a researcher, yet you postulate a theory after only one experiment? Shoddy work, if you ask me.”

Draco’s cheeks tinged slightly pink at the teasing. “Is it?” he asked.

“It is,” she rejoined. “You should be able to replicate your results multiple times before you start theorising, just to be sure your experiment is legitimate,” she began in her best schoolteacher voice.

“In that case,” Draco grinned, rolling them so that she was beneath him and kissing down her neck, “would you care to engage in a little more research? Strictly in the name of furthering our pursuit of knowledge, you understand…”

Hermione smiled, tilting her head to nip at his lips as they curved into a playful grin. “Of course,” she responded playfully. “We all have to do our part. I’ve never been one to shy away from taking my work home with me.”

“I know,” Draco smirked in return. “That’s why, when I Fire-called the office just now, I told them that you and I were doing some off-site collaborations today and weren’t to be disturbed unless it’s a true emergency.”

Hermione goggled at him. “Draco, I quit yesterday!”

He nodded again. “I know. I hired you back.”

“Oh, really? When was that?”

“Five seconds after you asked me to stay the night,” he grinned, leaning down to kiss her through her laughter.

“Insufferable git.”

“You’ll learn to love me.”

“You know, Malfoy… I think maybe I will, at that.”


End file.
